My conversion to Catholicism began in the most unlikely place: a Protestant seminary classroom. While pursuing a master’s degree in biblical and theological studies, I enrolled in a church history course expecting to strengthen my evangelical foundations. Instead, I encountered what shook them to their core.

Reading the Church Fathers’ unanimous testimony about the Eucharist struck like lightning. Justin Martyr, Ignatius of Antioch, and Irenaeus proclaimed what I had been searching for all along: Christ truly present in the form of bread and wine. This was Christianity’s original faith believed everywhere, by everyone, from the beginning. That ancient witness resonated in my soul like a song I had always been humming, but to which I never knew the words.

I had spent years wandering—church hopping, studying Scripture, and straining to name what was missing. Yet it was in that Protestant seminary, surrounded by Reformed theology texts, that I finally found what my soul had been starving for: the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. The realization that I could receive Him, not symbolically, but truly and substantially, changed everything.

Today, I write as one who crossed the Tiber carrying a Protestant’s love for Scripture and a convert’s zeal for the sacraments. By day, I serve as a department director in a healthcare system in South Georgia. By night, I write for Catholic men who want their faith to be more than a Sunday obligation: for those who hunger for substance without posturing, and who need truth that can withstand the pressures of compromise and distraction in our age.

When I am not working or writing, you will find me hiking coastal trails, lifting weights, or sitting in silent adoration before the Blessed Sacrament, still amazed that the Body and Blood I once thought symbolic now sustains my very soul.